A Law & Disorder Christmas Carol
by No Limit 5
Summary: The Heart of Gold Detectives is putting on a play of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol! But their lead actor is acting more Scrooge-like than necessary. Will he change for the Christmas season? And what’s this about a Phantom of the Golden Soul Theater?
1. Christmas is Dead

_**A Law & Disorder Christmas Carol**_

_**Chapter 1 – Christmas is Dead**_

Christmas was one of the most celebrated holidays in the world, although many have shunned the true meaning of it – celebrating the birth of Jesus. Er, I mean loving each other's family members and friends. Yes. That's right. And, true to tradition, there was always one character that didn't hold any holiday spirit in his soul at all. And that man's name is –

"HOUSE!" Arthur Dent shouted from the backstage of Crime City's local play theater, the Golden Soul Theater. Arthur Dent was a simple and average man who just so happened to always get himself caught up with the latest wild escapade happening to the city. He wore nothing but rumpled pajamas, robe and slippers. And carried a green-striped towel over his arm, something of a habit he developed ever since meeting his friend Ford Prefect. Arthur kept muttering to himself over and over again as he looked through a clipboard he was holding and kept one finger pressed against a headset he wore.

"What's wrong, Dent?" Perry Cox asked, strolling toward him with his hands in his pockets. Cox was a seasoned doctor, very smart (and loved rubbing it in), with orange curly hair and was dressed in pale and faded clothes with rusty chains bound to his limbs.

"I don't know where in the world House is!" Arthur bemoaned, slapping a hand over his eyes. "Why does he have to disappear right before our performance of _A Christmas Carol_ tonight? And he's playing Scrooge! It's so – _unprofessional!_"

"Face it, Pajama-Man: House brings out the worst in everyone, especially during the Christmas season," Cox said cynically.

"Don't worry, Arthur! I've got him!" James Wilson called. Wilson was a caring doctor, but a rather exasperated one. He was wearing an old Victorian suit and hat for the play as he dragged over a casually dressed man with graying hair. Wilson shoved House forward as the three men glared at House.

"What? I was out picking out presents for ya," House said simply, smiling innocently.

"I found him slumming in a bar," Wilson glowered.

"Yeah, I was picking up a scotch for Perry. You like scotch, right buddy?" he smirked to Cox, who wasn't amused.

"Do you realize what time it is, House?!" Arthur snapped excitedly, holding up his left wrist to show a watch.

House squinted his eyes at it. "I dunno; that watch's broken."

He looked back at his watch and slapped his forehead. "Note to self: never ask Janitor to fix something," he murmured. "Whatever! You didn't drink anything, did you?"

"I can vouch that he didn't," Wilson assured him.

"Good, at least that's on our side," Arthur groaned. "Anyway, we've just have enough time to get you ready. Go, go, go, go!" He ushered House off to his dressing room.

Cox and Wilson both sighed tiredly. "Is it _because_ he got the lead part that he's acting like this?" Cox asked.

"No, he just does things his own way," he explained.

Cox stared him askance. "How long are you going to defend him?"

"I honestly don't even know why I bother," he groaned, gently rubbing his temples.

"Argh, I would've made the better Scrooge, if you ask me," Cox said, changing the topic. "I mean, I'm more cynical than him and better at monologues! I bet they chose him because he came with a cane."

"It _is_ a packaged deal," Wilson added, chuckling.

_**---**_

Arthur peeked out of the thick crimson curtains, seeing a full crowd of Crime City's citizens gather into the seats. He whistled, "Wow, it looks like almost everyone in the city has come." Turning his back on them for now, Arthur clapped his hands to get the actors' attentions. "Okay, everyone! We've been rehearsing this thing for over two weeks now and I have the uttermost faith in all of you that you all will put on one hell of a show out there! But don't worry if mess up a line or two, since it's an improv play as well. So feel free to throw in your own lines if you think they're good!" The Janitor raised a finger and opened his mouth. "Except you!" He lowered his finger and closed his mouth, glaring darkly at the stage manager. "As I was saying, no pressure and you'll all do…" Arthur looked through the sea of actors. He frowned and narrowed his eyes. "Where's House?"

"I heard he's still getting ready," the young cartoon Wakko said.

"Oh, for the love of Santa," Arthur moaned, placing his hand over his face and allowing it to slide down.

"I'll go get him," Wilson sighed, walking toward a dressing room. He poked his head in. "House?" he called.

Standing in front of a line of mirrors were the half-naked female actresses – Rika Itonami, Dot Warner, Elliot Reid, Trisha "Trillian" McMillian, Kara Kent, Sakura Kinomoto, Mystery and Juniper Lee. Upon realizing Wilson was staring at them and drawing the wrong conclusion, the ladies screamed, "PERVERT!"

"No, wait! You've got it all wrong! I didn't mean-! I'm leaving! I'm leaving!" Wilson attempted to explain himself as he ran out, shielding himself with his arms from the various random objects pelted at him.

"If you're, ah, looking for House, his room's down there," the slow Kronk said to him, staring and pointing his thumb down to the right of the girls' dressing room.

"Thanks, Kronk," Wilson breathed, stomping to the room. He threw the door open. "House!"

"Boy, James, I didn't take you for that kind of guy," House smirked, fitting his jacket on for his final Scrooge piece of clothing.

"You heard?" he moaned.

"Oh, yeah." He continued smirking as he picked up his cane. "I'm willing to bet that the rest of Crime City heard, as well!"

"Why?" Wilson asked wearily. "Why can't you be a _bit_ more caring? Why can't you be a _little_ more compassionate? Why can't we find a _shred_ of humanity in you, even during Christmas?"

"I wonder why people like to say, 'why' a lot," House pondered. "So what you expect me to do, eh? Give presents?"

"Well, if you expect US to get YOU some presents, sure!" he nodded, crossing his arms. "If presents are the only things that'll convince you to get into the mood of the season, of course! Just do something that'll make everyone a bit happier!"

House blankly gazed at his supposed only friend. Wilson could have sworn that he spotted a sort of glimmer in House's eyes, hopeful a sign that he'll change his ways. He swiftly popped a Vicodin in to his mouth out of habit and inquired, "Think the bar's still open on Christmas?"

"Argh! You know what? Forget it! Just – forget it!" Wilson cried out, throwing his arms into the air as he left the room in disgust. "Just get on stage!" He slammed the room's door shut, and slapped a hand over his eyes. There was no point in even trying to reason with that man. "Christmas is dead to him…."

House gripped his cane a bit tighter, musing over the words Wilson said to him. His eyes looked onto his desk and glanced upon a little glass snow globe of Crime City he received from Rika last year. He scooped up the little trinket and read the words MERRY CHRISTMAS within it. "'Just do something that'll make everyone a bit happier', eh?" he repeated softly.

_**End of Chapter 1**_

NL: Yeah, this is my Christmas story this year – my own retelling of _A Christmas Carol_! And, NO! This is NOT a "parody" (from what you guys define what a parody is)! And I should mention this story takes place several arcs into _Law & Disorder_. Read and Review, please!


	2. The Phantom Strikes!

_**Chapter 2 – The Phantom Strikes!**_

"I think there's something wrong with me, Dr. Cox," the unusually nerdy JD said to his mentor, dressed in a bright white robe for his role in the play. "Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy; I'm not feeling the way I'm supposed to feel. I just don't understand Christmas I guess. I like getting my holiday rectal exam, and sending letter bomb Christmas cards, and decorating my penis with tinsel! But I'm still not happy; I always end up feeling depressed."

"You know, Newbie, you're the only person I know – other than the drunk Santa outside the Kwik-E-Mart – who can take a wonderful holiday like Christmas and turn it into a _problem_. Of all the Lucys, Sallies, and Peppermint Patties in the world, you are _by far_ the most pathetic! You're just pathetic! You're pathetic! You're embarrassingly pathetic! You're beyond pathetic! You're pathetic's pathetic!" Cox ranted, stomping away from JD in a huff.

"Okay, everyone!" Arthur shouted. "It's time to start! Daffy, Porky, you guys are up!"

"Right-O!" the little black duck Daffy Duck saluted, wearing a fancy blue dress suit with top hat. "Let's go, Sir Pork-A-Lot!"

"I w-w-w-wish you'd st-st-stop calling m-m-me that," the pink Porky Pig frowned despondently, also wearing the same kind of dress suit as Daffy's. They both inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, calming down, and marched out in front of the crimson curtain. The audience's quiet chattering died down upon Daffy and Porky's entry, which signaled the start of the play. "G-g-greetings and w-welcome!" he said stridently. "Charles Dickens w-w-was one of the g-g-greatest writers of the nineteenth cen-cen-century. And w-w-we pay tr-tr-tribute to one of his n-n-novels today."

"As the author himself once described, this story, 'was his own little Christmas Book,'" Daffy recited. "My friend and I are here to narrate this story for you all. My name is Charles Dickens!"

"N-n-no," Porky deadpanned.

"What do you mean?" Daffy replied, turning to his co-narrator.

"W-w-we are NOT go-go-going to us-us-use that joke. Peop-peop-people will mistake this f-f-f-for a p-parody," he explained.

"Oh, yeah, we really don't want that," Daffy agreed, causing the members of the audience to laugh. "All right-y then! I'm Daffy Duck!"

"And I-I'm Porky Pig," he added, tipping his top hat.

"Let us begin…" Daffy whispered mysteriously as he and Porky held out their arms and walked backwards off the set; the large red curtains drew open as the lights all dimmed except for one spotlight on the stage. Standing in the middle of the stage, back to the audience, was House. He turned around with a cruel glare in his eyes and a long scowl across his face. "_Ebenezer House was a lucrative businessman,_" Daffy's voice narrated through speakers found all around the theater. "_But was a nasty old man, whose heart was only filled with greed and his lust for money._"

"_Ho-Hou-House cared for no one,_" Porky continued, "_the only th-th-thing he lo-loved was his dollars and coins._"

"_And those of others' that'll become his, if he had the chance,_" Daffy added.

House began moving his feet in place, imitating walking. Arthur, meanwhile, was nodding and flipping through the papers in his clipboard, but his eyes started bugging out. "Where's the snow?!" he yelped. "There's supposed to be snow falling down as House is walking! Marvin!" he called.

Out of his little corner of the room, a handsome chrome android stomped out, wandering up to Arthur. Its head was large and spherical, showing its impressive intelligence. "Yes?" he asked in a voice of such intense boredom and depression it made everyone in the room flinch involuntarily. "I think you ought to know, I'm feeling very depressed."

"You're always depressed!" Arthur snapped. "Anyway, I need you to do something for me."

"Oh, you _need_ me," Marvin repeated scathingly. "That's a first. I always thought you all hated me and wanted to sell me to a scrap yard?"

"Just go up to the rafters and figure out why Jim hasn't thrown down the fake snow yet!" he hissed, pulling on his hair so hard that the roots were barely holding on.

"Very well," the robot sneered, waddling out off toward the stepladder. "I'll tell you right now I won't enjoy this. Gads, brain the size of a planet and they have me checking up on a _worm_. You call this job satisfaction? 'Cause I don't. Lord, I loathe them all with a passion." Peeking up on the rafter, Marvin's large head scanned the area. He paused a moment to stare at a rotted skeleton with an insane grin and a sign that read EAT AT JOE'S. "Anyone here that isn't dead?" he called monotonously. "Not that I care." Hearing muffled sounds from above him, Marvin looked up to see a strange worm in a hi-tech, state-of-the-art spacesuit ensnared to the ceiling with duct tape and a piece over its mouth. "Oh, did you go up there to look even more down on me?" Marvin asked dully with a hint of delight. Earthworm Jim attempted to scream through the duct tape. Marvin drearily lifted his left arm and a little laser popped out of his wrist, cutting through the duct tape and freeing Jim.

"Thank you, my little robot friend!" he thundered, flexing his might muscles melodramatically.

Marvin shook his head contemptuously. "You're not welcome. Only because I was told to find out, why didn't you throw down the fake snow?"

"Oh, you won't believe it, Marvin!" Jim declared in rapid-fire delivery, only as good as any sports commentator could possibly hope to achieve. "I was waiting here, just as what my job wanted me to do – which I'm totally upset about since I thought I would've made a great Ghost of Christmas Present – but that isn't the point! I was just here doing my crappy job as a special effects guy when, suddenly, this sabotage-man showed up! I tried to blast that little sucker into submission, screaming, 'Eat dirt, you _V for Vendetta_ wannabe!' But he evaded my incredible pin-point laser accuracy – I swear he cheated. And, the next thing I knew, I was bound and gagged to the ceiling! Oh, wow, what a hoot!"

Marvin put his hand on the side of his head. "Oh, God, my already present headache just got worse."

"Oh, almost forgot! The fellow left THIS behind." Jim held up a little card and handed it to him. Marvin's green-lit eyes stared at the short, handwritten message.

_This is only the beginning._

– _The Phantom of the Golden Soul Theater_


	3. “Bah! Humbug!”

_**Chapter 3 – "Bah! Humbug!"**_

JD peeped into his dark mailbox, and hollered, "Helloooooo in there…" Its emptiness echoed his call back to him. "Rats," he frowned. "Nobody sent me a Christmas card today." Slamming the mailbox shut, JD pocketed his hands and slumped through backstage. "It almost makes me wish there wasn't a holiday season. I know nobody likes me, so why do we need a holiday season to emphasize it?" Spotting the pretty blonde Kara Kent, he asked suavely, "How's about some pity sex, Kara?" She slapped him so hard that his head spun around – one-eighty. "I'll take that as a 'no'," JD moaned before collapsing to the ground in a dead heap, dying oh-so painfully.

Luckily for him, it all only went down in his mind.

_**---**_

Meanwhile, on stage, House came to the front door of a little shop that was his business. A little sign hung over the door that read COX AND HOUSE – PROFFESIONAL MONEY LENDERS. "_House owns a commerce that he used to share with his old friend named Jacob Cox,_" Daffy narrated. "_Cox was just as greedy and selfish as House, if not more. He had passed away seven years ago on Christmas Eve and given House all his shares of the company._"

House took off his hat; almost as if pay tribute to his old business partner, but all he did was use it to brush away the snow blocking his own name. Smiling contently, he entered his shop. It was unbearably cold outside, what with the snow; but the shop's insides weren't much better. Sitting and frozen to the bones on a tiny wooden stool behind a desk with many papers was a large muscular man with a huge jaw, long hair and wearing a purple tunic. Shivering and rubbing his arms, he greeted, "G-good morning, m-mister House."

"It's only a good morning when it's a busy morning, Kronk," House stated. Then, he frowned. He held up his hand and detected something different. "It's warm in here. Have you been going through my coal?!"

"Er, sorry, sir," Kronk apologized, holding up a little bottle of ink with a quill in it – by the quill. "I was just trying to thaw the ink."

"Bah!" he sneered, pointing his cane right into his employee's nose. "Then thaw it with your own breath! If you as so much as LOOK at my coal stack again, I'll have your job! Now get back to work!"

Squeaking, Kronk picked up another quill and quickly started scribbling. Looking up anxiously, he said, "Er, speaking of work, I was thinking that you could allow me to have…a half-day off from work tomorrow?"

House placed his jacket and hat on a coat rack, and growled, "Because of Christmas, am I right?" He nodded feebly. "Hmm…." He eyed Kronk, whom was holding his hands together hopefully and batting massive eyelashes he suddenly developed. "Very well," Kronk looked like he could skip, "but I'll be docking a half-day's worth of your pay!"

Kronk's hopeful expression was quickly wiped from his face. "I guess that's better than nothing."

"_What a jer-jer-jer, what a grouch,_" Porky said.

Suddenly, bursting through the door with open arms, Rika shouted, "Merry Christmas!"

"And a Merry Christmas to you, Miss Rika," Kronk smiled warmly, shaking her hand.

"'Merry Christmas'?" House repeated doubtingly. "Bah! Humbug!"

"Please, allow me to take your coat," Kronk said, helping Rika take her outer layer off.

She immediately shuddered, taking her coat back. "I think I'll keep it on, actually." Spotting House, she cheerfully declared, "Merry Christmas, Uncle House!"

"What's so 'merry' about it?" he scowled. "As far as I'm concerned, Christmas is just another day in the year! Be it New Year's, the Fourth of July, or Arbor Day!"

"'Arbor Day'?" Rika and Kronk repeated dubiously.

"But, Uncle," she protested, "Christmas is about a time of loving, cheer, giving, and a time to be with one's family! I say, 'Yay, Christmas!'"

Kronk applauded her, but ceased right away when he saw House cast a cold glower at him. "What are you even doing here, Rika?" House asked.

"Well, I was hoping that you could share Christmas Dinner with Kuro and me at our home," Rika explained and smiled. "So, think you can make it?"

"Christmas Dinner?" he sneered. "What a load of crock." Rika sighed dejectedly. The door once again opened, and standing at the door were two men. One was Wilson-in-character and a black man dressed stylishly with a satchel and a towel over his arm. "And who might you be?"

"Good day, everyone," Wilson greeted. "My name is Wilson and my associate here is Ford Prefect. We are collecting some slight provision for the poor and destitute."

"Perhaps you could make a donation?" Ford asked.

"Oh, sure!" Rika nodded gladly, throwing an arm around House's shoulders. "This guy's got so much money that he puts Montgomery Burns to shame!"

"_Rika!_" House hissed.

"Here's my donation!" she declared, handing a five dollar bill to Ford. "I'm afraid that's all I'm carrying at the moment."

"Oh, thank you so much!" he said appreciatively.

"Bah humbug," House murmured.

"And you, sir?" Wilson asked, his tone actually sounding a bit bitter from his actual conversation with his friend earlier.

"I offer them absolutely nothing," he said, almost proudly.

"But, sir!" Ford argued. "The harshness of winter's upon us! They'll die!"

"They had better do it, and decrease the surplus population," he grumbled.

The two couldn't believe what they were hearing. "I don't believe this!" Ford exclaimed.

"Come, Ford," Wilson said, opening the front door. "I believe we've taken enough of Mr. House's time."

"Don't let the door hit ya on the way out!" House snapped, slamming the door after they've left. "Oh, what's this world coming to?" he bemoaned, Rika and Kronk staring at him in disbelief. "You work hard for your entire life for the money you earn…and they just expect you to give it away!"

"It's thinking about others, Uncle House," Rika said, opening the door again for her exit. She looked back. "It's about kindness."

"Bah! Humbug!" was his response.

She sighed. "Well, that Christmas Dinner offer still stands. Merry Christmas, fellas!"

When she was gone, House groaned, "Jeez, why'd I have to have a niece like _that?_" He turned to Kronk. "Well, what are you looking at? Get back to work, you meat-head!" Yelping, Kronk picked up his quill and began his work once more.

_**---**_

Kronk's idly tapped his quill, resting his large chin in his hand. He glanced up at the clock and a wide smile etched across his face. It was almost closing time. Making a few last strokes with his quill, Kronk set it down and picked up his scarf from the coat rack, preparing to leave. "Hmm…that ol' clock's running fast," House stated, holding a golden pocket watch. Kronk sighed despondently as he picked up the quill again. "Meh, forget it. You can go."

Brimming with joy, Kronk said, "Oh, thank you, sir!"

"And, I've been thinking, considering almost all the businesses will be closed tomorrow, I suppose…" Kronk's eyes grew to the size of saucers, "…you can take the whole day off tomorrow."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Mr. House!" he cried blissfully. "You're too kind!"

"That statement's too true," House said. "But I expect you to be here earlier the day after!"

"I will, sir! I will!" Kronk assured him, gathering the last of his possessions. Just before leaving for his home, Kronk added, "And a Merry Christmas to you, sir!"

House rolled his eyes as his employee left. "Bah humbug…" he muttered. Thinking it was time for him to make his departure as well, he sealed away the money he was counting into a colossal safe that was easily the size of a small building and spun the golden combination lock. "Scrooge McDuck, eat your heart out," he smirked. Locking the front door to his shop, House slowly made his away through the thick snow that was now pouring – thanks to the untied Earthworm Jim – to his home.

The flowing red curtains drew to a close and the audience clapped their hands enthusiastically as they did. "And that's a wrap of Act 1, folks!" Arthur declared, relieved they were able to make it by with only one minor problem. "Twenty minute break, everyone!"

"Good, I've got some work to do," House said, stripping off his costume and making for the backstage exit.

"What?! Where are you going?!" Arthur demanded.

"None of your stinkin' beeswax," he said with a smile and he departed.

"Ugh…" Arthur groaned, but then spotted Trillian – and he was completely dumbfounded by how beautiful she looked in her dress of Belle from the play. "Um, wow! You look…unbelievable."

"Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly. "I feel – poofy."

"Oh, no, I think you look great," he assured her, smiling warmly.

"Excuse me, Arthur," Trillian said, walking to JD. "JD's been having a pretty crappy Christmas. I'm going to cheer him up."

"Oh, yes, sure," he said disappointedly. "You go do that…."

"Hey, JD," she said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm in sad shape, Trill'," JD moaned.

"You're damn right, you are!" Trillian said. "You've completely lost sight of what's important here! It's Christmas, and, if you don't something about it, a holiday is gonna pass and all you have to show for it is your name urinated in snow."

"But I like urinating my name in snow! Almost as much as I like touching myself."

Trillian placed her hands on both sides of JD's face. "Focus, JD. The holidays are great! Remember the time we all got drunk and danced all night? That was the greatest…."

"I wasn't invited," JD sighed.

"Well, what about the year we sat around the Christmas tree and beat-boxed?"

"I wasn't invited that time either."

"What about the –"

"Nope! Wasn't invited!"

"You need involvement," Trillian stated. "You need to get involved in some real Christmas project. Hmm, let me think…." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Oh, I know! You can be responsible for picking out the Heart of Gold Detectives' Christmas Tree!"

"ME?!" he exclaimed, startled. "You want ME to get the team's Christmas Tree?!"

"Sure, JD, you can bring it to the after-play party," she said. "Just don't screw it up!"

Trillian smiled innocently as JD went cross-eyed.


	4. Carols and Spirits and Phantoms! Oh, My!

_**Chapter 4 – Carols and Spirits and Phantoms! Oh, My!**_

"I've been looking for you, JD…" the _other_ pretty, blonde Elliot Reid called to him in a sing-song voice. "I kind of went a little overboard on the eggnog and now my hands won't work." She laughed uncomfortably. "Can you write me a prescription for it?"

"I don't have time, Elliot," he replied, putting on a jacket and walking toward the backstage exit. "I have to find a Christmas tree and bring it to the after-play party later."

Elliot stood in his way, completely ignoring him. "Okay, I'll make this quick: put me down for some Vicodin to ease this hangover. Or maybe something that will have me forget the hangover. Or maybe I just need another eggnog! You know, bite the dog that bit me? Heh, I guess it really doesn't matter." She sighed fondly. "I love the holidays…. Oh! Except, of course, the year I was nine and my parents got me a Nancy Regan 'Just-Say-No' poster. And I asked what I was saying 'no' to and then they said, 'Legwarmers, five-figure jogs, and sex with minorities.' Oh, and over dinner my mother yelled at my father because she found out in college he played Santa in the local mall and ended up in the gift-wrapping department with a 'hoe-hoe-hoe'," she said mockingly, "which then drove him to go a little overboard on the eggnog, which…." Elliot paused and looked down. "I can't feel my legs."

JD, who was taking all this down on a little notepad, tossed the notepad into the air and groaned, "Oh, good grief, Elliot! Ugh! Save it for your Tuesday session!" He stomped out the building, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"Merr-merry Christmas!" Elliot yelled after him, attempting to pick up the notepad with her non-functioning hands.

_**---**_

House, meanwhile, was walking carefully through the slippery snow as the harsh winter winds licked across his freezing face, but that didn't matter to him – he was a man on a mission.

"_Feliz Navidad!_"

House's ears perked up as he heard something.

"_Feliz Navidad!_"

He squinted his eyes and spotted a Mexican family consisting of Manny Rivera, his father and grandfather caroling out in the middle of a block while Manny waved a little bell as they collected money for a fund raiser. "_Feliz Navidad!_" they sang. "_Feliz Navidad! Prospero Ano y Felicidad. I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas! I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas! I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas! From the bottom of my heart!_"

Rolling his eyes, House slipped two dollar bills into the family's bin of money. Manny smiled appreciatively and the corner of House's mouth twitched, whether it was upward or downward was difficult to decipher. When the doctor walked away, Manny's grandfather's hand reached into the bin, attempting to swipe some cash. But Manny's father slapped his hand way, waving his finger disapprovingly as Manny groaned.

_**---**_

"Oh, where's House?!" Arthur bemoaned once again, prompting everyone around him to roll their eyes.

Right at that moment, House walked in through the exit and said briskly, "I'm back."

"Where the bloody hell were you?" Arthur demanded as House slipped on his Scrooge costume again.

"I was taking care of some last minute Christmas shopping," he answered simply.

"Don't you lie to me!" Arthur snapped.

"Fine, don't believe me," House shrugged indifferently, limping toward the stage. "Just don't blame me when Sandy Claus arrives in town and leaves ya a large lump of black coal."

"After all the crap you've put us through, that coal will be left for YOU!" Arthur groaned, slapping his forehead despairingly.

House flapped his right hand like a mouth mockingly and rolled his eyes. The flowing red curtains steadily drew open. "_House slowly marched his way to his home through the layer of an inch of snow,_" Daffy quietly narrated.

"_It was a c-c-cold night,_" Porky stated. "_An s-s-sort of c-cold night that s-spelled change…._" House finally reached his home, a large forebodingly empty mansion. He reached into his pocket and drew out a cast iron ring of keys, as he flipped through his various keys for his home's House felt a frighteningly cold chill run down his spine.

"_Hoooooouse…_"

House looked up and down the dark street and saw not a single soul. He shook his head; his old age is playing tricks on him.

"_Hoooooooooouse…_"

He looked at his gargoyle door knocker and his eyes' pupils shrunk, for his door knocker had become the ghastly image of his dead partner Jacob Cox. "_Hoooooooooooooooouse!_" it called to him with a dreadful moan.

House shut his eyes tight and, after a second or two, he slowly opened them again. The image had vanished and only his gargoyle door knocker remained. "Bah humbug," he grumbled, annoyed that he allowed something as inconsequential as a partner's death to affect him. He jabbed his key into the mansion's keyhole, turned it, stomped inside and slammed the door shut.

"_House p-p-pushed it to t-t-the back of his mind,_" Porky continued. "_But t-t-this was o-o-only the s-s-start of this n-n-night of d-destiny._"

House limped into his living space, changed into his nightwear and cap, and carrying a little bowl of cold porridge. He set his cane and dinner gently on to armrest of his armchair that sat before a fireplace. He bent over and stroke up a fire in the fireplace, easing his chilling body and sat back down into his armchair. He dipped a spoon into his porridge and placed the chilly oatmeal into his mouth. House shuddered. "Blah!" he gagged quietly. "Did Bender make this?" Hiding his disgust from the audience, House ate his meal.

He placed his empty bowl on the armrest once again and his eyelids flickered, growing tired. But he was awoken by the sounds of clatter coming from outside the door of the room. Grabbing his cane and wielding it like a club, House shouted, "Who goes there? I'm warning you, I've got a chainsaw!" He pretended to rev a chainsaw and mimicked its sounds. "Rumb-brak-clakka-clakka! Rumb-brak-clakka-clakka!"

"Man, that's stupid!" a large fat man named Homer Simpson in the audience laughed. His loving, but exasperated, wife Marge rolled her eyes.

"_Ebenezer Hooooouse!_" a chillingly startling voice echoed to House.

"Show yourself!" he demanded, holding up his cane, but regretted it immediately. The sound clomping of shoes etched itself to him, along with those horribly clanging chains. Finally, he arrived. House would have screamed if he could, but was far too frightened. His deceased partner Jacob Cox slowly sauntered toward him. "No, no, you're dead! It can't possibly be you! Be gone from my sight!"

"Face it, pal-y," Cox said scathingly. "The ghost of your dead partner's here in your house. Get over it."

"Oh, yeah, it's you all right," House murmured disdainfully. "What are you doing here, Cox?"

"I'm here to haunt ass and chew bubblegum," he answered. "And I'm all out of bubblegum."

"Can the jokes, Cox," House grumbled, "if that's even you. I probably shouldn't have had that porridge. Probably had spider eggs in it or something…."

"House!" Cox thundered, startling him and causing him to drop to the ground. "Back when I was alive, we had robbed the widows and swindled the poor!"

"Yeah, and all in the same day!" he sighed fondly, reminiscing the past. "Ah, those were some good times. You had class, Cox!"

"Heh, heh, yeah…." Cox smiled proudly, but slapped his own face. "No, what am I talking about?! No! No! I was wrong and foolish to have done that! I had committed cruel and pitiless crimes in life. Now, as punishment for it, my spirit has been banished from the afterlife and forced to wander the world of the living, dragging these heavy chains forever more!"

"That'll explain the bling-bling," House said, holding up one of the chains bound to Cox's arm.

"This is no joke, House!" he boomed, shoving House back into his armchair. "Each of these chain links was every single cruel act I had done. I have suffered…pained…and experienced the rightful karma I had deserved! And I am unable to pass on…. And you are to receive the same fate, Ebenezer House, unless you change your ways now!" he warned, wringing his chains around House's throat.

"No, no, no!" House begged, pushing the chains away. "Please, Cox! Help me! Save me from this terrible judgment!"

"Tonight, you'll be visited by three ghosts," Cox said.

"Including you?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you one of those three ghosts? Or is it one of those after the first ghost kind of deals and then comes the actual first ghost-"

"Focus, House!" Cox roared mightily, creating a gale of a storm to revolve around the room and silencing House. "Three ghosts shall visit you tonight; listen to them, learn from them, understand what you have done, or your own chains will be heavier than mine!"

"More ghosts?" House protested. "I can't even stand seeing you, Cox. How'd you expect me to-?"

"Just do it, you stubborn jackass!" Cox cried out once more, glaring fiercely House in the eyes, and sighed. "You were my friend, House. I wish for you to escape this horrible path I have taken. There is still hope for you. Expect the first ghost tonight when the bell tolls one."

"Cox…" House whispered as he gazed at his old partner slowly ascending through a closed window.

"_Change, House…_" Cox moaned once again, dragging his chains through the air. "_Change…_"

His spirit vanished. House wiped away a tear dripping from his eye and stared at it – he angrily waved it away. "Bah! Humbug!" he growled. "What am I getting all sentimental about? I didn't even cry at his funeral!"

House carried a lit candlestick to his bedroom. He was about to crawl into his bed when a through struck him. He cautiously peeked under his bed and found nothing. Sickened with his act, he jumped into the bed and threw the covers over himself. He declared once more, "Spirits…humbug!" and blew out his candle, plunging the room into darkness.

The long ruby curtains drew a close again, and, just as before, the audience clapped their hands at the performance. Hopping out of the bed, House opened the curtains slightly and basked in the peoples' applause. "Ah, my adoring public," he smirked.

"Blah, I'm a better Scrooge than you any day…" Cox mumbled contemptuously, sticking his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he exited the backstage due to that his part of the play was over.

"Hey, Arthur?" Rika called, walking over to the stage manager. "We can't find the costumes for the big dance scene with Scrooge and Belle in the past."

"What?!" he gasped, throwing his clipboard into the air that struck Daffy in the back of the head. "Why not?!"

"I dunno," she shrugged. "They were in the props closet but now they're gone. Oh, and I found this."

Rika handed to Arthur a little card that he recognized immediately as the Phantom of the Gold Soul Theater's. "Argh! Why does this keep happening to me?!" he bemoaned, pulling on his hair. "Have the Janitor and Bloo go to a shop and buy some new ones!"

"Gotcha!" Nodding, Rika quickly made haste.

Arthur clenched his fist irritably. "I'm going to take you down, Mr. Phantom…."


	5. The Phantom?

_**Chapter 5 – The Phantom?**_

JD and Cox stared blankly at the specially colored trees of the Crime City's annual Christmas tree lot. Some were red, pink, yellow, purple and even plaid and polka dotted; but not a single one of them was the standard green Christmas pine tree. Cox rapped his knuckles against one of them and it clanged like metal. "So, tell me, Newbie," he said, "if a tree falls in the middle of a forest and no one around hears it, does that make you still a dumbass?"

"Yes," JD answered. "Wait, no! I mean – ugh! Oh, good grief!" He moaned, slapping his hand over his forehead. "Okay, I just have to concentrate and I'm sure I'll find the perfect tree." JD picked up a little runt of a shrub that barely even had any pine needles clinging to its few branches. "Found it!" he declared, grinning cheerfully.

Cox frowned disapprovingly but JD bought the tree unabatedly. "Janet, your concentration…it just astounds me! I can honestly say that I have never seen one _quite_ like yours."

"Thanks, Dr. Cox," JD said cheerfully, completely oblivious to Cox's obvious sarcasm.

"And your perception's pretty beyond belief, too," he added.

_**---**_

The tall and insane Janitor and the tiny but mischievous Bloo leisurely walked down the street, the Janitor's feet crunching deep into the inch of snow. Both were without a care in the world even though they should be rushing to and from the costume shop back to the Golden Soul Theater, where Arthur was most likely slamming his misbegotten forehead on a desk repeatedly. When they finally reached their destination, Bloo asked, "Hey, Janitor, is that House over there?"

The Janitor, generally surprised by Bloo's question, turned to face the direction Bloo was pointing. Indeed, there he was: House was lugging some heavy shopping bags through the thick snow on the street across from theirs. "What's ol' Limpy up to?" he muttered.

"Well, I think-"

"Ah-ah-ah!" The Janitor slapped his hand over Bloo's mouth. "That was a rhetorical question that I'm supposed to ask to make things more mysterious and suspenseful before the initial confrontation with whom we are speaking of."

After the Janitor removed his hand Bloo grumbled, crossing his arms, "I knew that! I was just _testing_ you."

"Oi, you!" he shouted across the street, completely ignoring his companion and stomping to House.

House looked down and up the street. "Oh, I'm sorry. I believe you've mistaken my name as 'you'."

"Can the wisecracks, House," the Janitor said, his hands in his jacket's pockets in a businesslike manner. Bloo looked at him and tried to mimic him but he was lacking a jacket of his own. Instead, he took off his scarf, wrapped it around his waist, and inserted his hands into that. "Whatcha doin' with those bags?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he said. "I was Christmas shopping."

Bloo and the Janitor exchanged baffled glances. "I thought you hated Christmas?" Bloo queried.

"No, that's just the character I play," he responded.

"What character?"

"Scrooge?" House said slowly, raising an eyebrow. Bloo stared blankly. "From _A Christmas Carol_? Written by Charles Dickens? Involves ghosts? Often adapted into movies and television specials around the holiday season? The very play we're putting on at the theater, where we've been rehearsing for the past few weeks? Any of that ring a bell?"

Bloo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm…sounds familiar…. Nope! I have no idea what you're talking about."

House and the Janitor slapped their hands over their eyes. "Anyway…why are you Christmas shopping?" the Janitor asked. "Mind if we have a peek inside of them bags of yours?"

He shrugged. "Be my guest."

The Janitor and Bloo dug into the bags, finding various presents with tags that had the names of all their friends attached. "Okay, for the first time in my life, I'm confused," Bloo declared.

"I know you, House," the Janitor said. "You never do anything unless it involves a mystery that intrigues you and/or has something for you in the end. What're you up to?"

"Nothing," he answered simply. "Just spreading around the Christmas spirit! Speaking of which." House reached deep into one of his bags and pulled out two presents, which he handed to Bloo and the Janitor. "Have yourselves a Merry Christmas!" He grinned delightfully as he walked back to the theater, leaving two very confused pranksters.

"Bloo?" the Janitor finally said after a long lapse of time.

"Yes, Janitor?"

"Are the Four Horsemen in the sky?" he asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"'Cause I think the Apocalypse is upon us," the Janitor answered frankly.

_**---**_

Trillian and Rika were making girl-talk when they spotted Arthur crouching down behind a large wooden box, holding a string in his hand. "Oh, boy…" Trillian groaned, rolling her eyes. She and Rika walked over and also squatted down behind the box, each beside Arthur. "So, what are you doing?"

"Shh!" he shushed. "I'm waiting for the Phantom of the Golden Soul Theater to fall for my trap," he answered quietly, smiling eagerly.

"Er, how are you going about that?" Rika asked in a hushed tone, which she wasn't sure why she was using.

"Look." Arthur pointed to a big, empty crate being held up by a tree branch with a string stretching back to Arthur and a little piece of paper beneath the crate with the words IMPORTANT PLAY THING written on it.

Rika and Trillian's eyelids half closed disapprovingly. The two stood up and walked away. "Good luck with that," Trillian said lifelessly.

To much of their surprise, the sound of a crate slamming down reached their ears. "See? See!" Arthur exclaimed, hopping up and down excitedly and pointing at the crate trembling with something trapped inside. "It worked! You didn't believe me, but it worked! Suck on THAT, ladies!" He jabbed a finger in their direction, cackling wildly.

"Damn," Rika and Trillian stated.

"All right, Mr. Phantom," Arthur said, rubbing his hands together sinisterly. "Let's just see who you ARE!" On his last word, Arthur lifted the crate and balked. "BART!"

"Sorry, pajama-man," the impish Bart Simpson smirked deviously. "I'm not actually the Phantom. Just tricked the trap to piss ya off."

"Why, you little-!" Arthur wringed Bart's neck furiously. "I'll…show…you…for…making me…look like an idiot!" he snarled. Rika and Trillian wearily sighed.

_**End of Chapter 5**_

NL: All right, I was going to continue the chapter with the next part in the play, but realized it wouldn't work unless the Ghost of Christmas Past was there! So I decided to cut if off here with a short chapter and start it off in the next one.


	6. The Past Today

_**Chapter 6 – The Past Today**_

JD threw the backstage door open with a slam, a massive grin on his face and his tiny tree in his right arm. He merrily marched in with Cox trotting behind him with an equally large frown. "Do not worry, everyone!" JD declared, holding up his free hand gallantly. "I returned with our fabulous Christmas tree!" He gently set down the tree on a table.

Daffy stood on tiptoes as everyone crowded around JD, Cox, and the tree. "Where is it?" he asked. "All I see is some dying scrawny weed."

JD's smile dropped slightly. "JD, didn't I tell you to go find an extravagant tree?" Trillian said disappointedly.

"Time to deck the halls with your incompetence," the booze-downing robot Bender hooted.

"Lemme think where'd be a nice place for this tree of yours?" the returned Janitor pondered, resting on his mop. "How about up your ass?"

"Hey, JD! Your twig went limp!" the wiseacre-running-for-may Jay chuckled, elbowing his partner Silent Bob, whom rolled his eyes.

"This just may take away from my failures in capturing the Phantom…" Arthur muttered quietly. "Compared to this tree I am huge and powerful."

"Can't you even tell the difference between a good tree from a bad tree?" Trillian chided.

"Oh, rats…" JD groaned miserably.

"You've been dumb before, JD, but this just takes the cake!" she said, glowering. JD held his head low, unwilling to look anyone in the eye. Cox dragged his hand through his hair as he watched JD slump out of everyone's sight. He had to say something to his mentee – Cox shook his head. Mentee? Where'd that come from?

_**---**_

The crimson curtain drew open once more, revealing House sleeping peacefully in his four-poster bed. He snored rather loudly to boot. His grandfather clock stuck one AM. A bright blue light shined down from a star outside the room's window. It only grew brighter and brighter until it finally faded away, leaving behind the ghostly image of JD. He slowly sauntered toward House, as though gliding. "_House…_" he whispered in an attempt to wake the sleeping misanthrope. But House continued sleeping unabated. "_House…_" he called once more in a more urging tone. It proved fruitless. Growing annoyed, JD spoke in an average volume, "House." Nothing. JD reached into his cloak, pulled out a megaphone, and roared into it, "HOUSE!"

"ARGH!" The sound waves JD created had awoken House and, quite literally, sent him clinging to a bedpost. "Who? What? Where? Why? When!" After take many calming breaths, House noticed JD. "Oh. It's just a stinkin' ghost," he grumbled, rolling his eyes, which immediately shot open to the size of saucers. "GHOST!" He quickly snatched up his phone on the desk next to his bed and dialed a number. "Help! There's something strange in the neighborhood! It's something weird and it don't look good! That's why I'm calling you!" House paused for a moment for them to reply. Angry, he slammed the receiver back down on the base. "I ain't afraid of no ghost," he grumbled.

"Okay…" JD intoned slowly. "Hiya! The name's the Ghost of Christmas Past! Don't forget the 'the'. The 'the' makes me sound cooler and official." House frowned disapprovingly. "But you can just call me 'JD'!"

"Why? What's JD short for?" he asked, smirking subtly.

Sweat poured down JD's eyebrows as he turned with wide eyes to the waiting audience, all their eyes focused on him. He gulped. "Um, er, it's short for…'just delightful'!" JD answered, chortling uneasily.

"Right…. Anyway, so what'd you want?" House asked.

JD cleared his throat, and spoke in a more commanding tone, "I have come to take back to the past."

House raised an eyebrow. "To play the shitty games that suck ass? No thanks."

"This is YOUR past, House!" he snapped, taking House's hand. "Come on! Time is a-wasting!" JD dragged him out of the bed and toward the window that just then swung open.

"Are you out of your mind!" House protested, trying to escape JD's grip by dragging his heels across the wooden floor. "I can't do that, I'm not a ghost! I'll fall to my death!"

"Oh, quit being such a baby," JD said, hovering out of the room and window.

"NO!" he yelled, shutting his eyes tight. He felt his feet dragged from the last bit of footing he could find. House was sure he was going to fall but he didn't feel the sudden drop. He opened his eyes, seeing that JD was still holding on to his hand and keeping him afloat. "You drop me and I'm suing," he warned.

"Whatever floats your boat, Mr. House." JD rolled his eyes, pulling House across the air. Although he was being kidnapped by a specter and was rising hundreds of meters above the ground that would certainly hurt if he was dropped from such height, House felt quite comfortable gliding through the sky.

House closed his eyes, enjoying this feeling. When he opened them again he saw that they were no longer in the town, but rather next to a school building, where dozens of little children were playing games with each other in the snow. The school was familiar to House, almost like a lost memory. "What's the meaning of this, spirit?" he demanded.

"House, do you not recognize this school?" JD said. "How's about you take a look inside?" Cautious of JD's suggestion, House peeked through the building's window.

"_House couldn't believe his eyes,_" Daffy narrated quietly. "_There, inside the school, was him. The young Ebenezer House sitting behind a desk and studying while all the other students were outside playing._"

House shook his head, feeling a sudden blast of nostalgia that this place had brought – along with the shock. "Look familiar now?" JD asked slyly.

"This…was my old boarding school," he whispered, placing his hand against the window's glass. "And that's…me."

"It's Christmas Eve, House," JD said. "Why is that you're inside while the others are getting ready for the holiday with their families?"

"Because Christmas was a sham," House answered bitterly. "I was always by myself and with no friends. With no one around I chose to study and read. I thought it was for the best. I was alone in this world…"

"But you weren't alone, House," JD reminded him as the school's door swung open.

House couldn't contain his gasp. His sister Elliot had opened the door, his supporting and loving sister. "Ebenezer!" she cried happily, taking her young brother into her arms.

The younger House was surprised by her sudden appearance. "Elliot? What are you doing here?"

"I've come to take you home, brother!" Elliot said, smiling warmly. "Our family is waiting for you!"

The young House was so happy, taking his sister's hand and leaving his loneliness behind. "Oh, I loved my sister," House whispered softly to JD. "I thought we would've have been together forever."

"But that didn't last, did it?" JD stated.

House allowed a few droplets of tears to drip from his eyes. "She died soon after. I had taken in her daughter Rika and raised her like my own."

"You love your niece, don't you?" he asked.

"Of course I do!" House said, offended by such a question.

"Then what of the times of late?" he asked.

House averted his eyes, regret forming in his heart. "I…" He couldn't answer as he closed his eyes.

"Come," JD said gently, taking House's hand again. "There is more to see." House opened his eyes and, once again, found himself at a new location with JD. This time standing in a dark, snow-covered street outside a shop, where lights within shined out a window over them. "Remember this place?"

"Do I ever!" House said, looking through the glass window inside. "This was where I worked my first job with my partner Cox, the Janitor's Workshop!" The insides were far more different from the barren and cold street outside – warm, bright, and full of life as the many workers did their jobs. "Ah, this brings back memories…. That Janitor was a crafty businessman, working us all to the bone!"

"Let us watch and see," JD suggested with a ghost of smile upon his face.

"My hardworking employees!" the Janitor, dressed fancily, called, gathering everyone's attention. "It's Christmas Eve! And you know what I want you to do tomorrow morn?" House expected hard work. "Sleep in and hang out with your families!" House was surprised as the Janitor laughed heartily. "Come on, come on!" he said, slamming shut everyone's books and throwing them to the corner. "It's Christmas Eve! We've worked enough today. Time to boogie!" With a snap of his fingers a group of workers picked up some musical instruments. "Play it, Sam!" he shouted with a grin.

Exciting and uplifting music filled the room as everyone pushed their desks away and began dancing in the center of the room. "Okay, maybe the Janitor wasn't as such a hard-ass as I thought," House said.

"Like you were with your own employee, Kronk?" JD asked. House knew that was coming, sighing remorsefully. "Oh, look, look! It's the younger you!"

House looked into the window, spotting a younger him walking with the Janitor. "Yo, Janitor," he said, holding up a receipt, "I've been doing a little investigating and I think you're spending way too much money on this party each year!"

The Janitor laughed as he brushed the paperwork aside. "Oh, screw it all, House! It's Christmas, therefore a time for generosity! Just stop working and have some fun!" He pushed the young House to a young woman in the middle of the dance floor. "Come on, you need to get out more and meet some people." He added in a whisper, "And you really need to get laid."

"Don't we all?" JD sighed pensively outside.

House ignored him, his eyes fixated on that young woman the Janitor pushed the younger him to. "_Trillian,_" he whispered.

The slim Trillian, with long waves of hair, a full mouth, and ridiculously brown eyes turned to the young House. "Hi," she smiled.

"Um, er, hi," the young House stammered, dumbfounded by how pretty this woman is.

"So, would you like to dance?" she asked, smiling as she took his hand.

House gulped, nodding. "Er, yeah. Sure."

"You remember this meeting?" JD asked.

"Remember?" House said with a dry throat. "Of course I remember."

"I'm afraid there's one more past Christmas Eve I must show you," JD said, taking House's hand for one last time. "The one with Trillian three years from now."

House shut his eyes, shaking his head unwillingly. "No, please, no! Don't make me relive that Christmas again! Take me home!"

JD didn't comply, however, as House dropped to his knees on the floor of a little cottage. "I'm sorry, House," JD said softly.

House rose back to his feet, seeing another younger him sitting with his love Trillian. "When are we going to get married, Ebenezer?" she asked, a little frown on her face.

"I told you, as soon as we get enough money," the younger House said. "But business has just been looking bad lately…."

"You've been saying that for years," Trillian said.

"Just wait for me a little longer," he pleaded. "Some more money and everything will be all right."

Trillian sighed, "I don't think it will be." She stood up. "There will never be enough money for you, Ebenezer. Not now, not ever." She gently placed her hand on House's face. "I love you and I thought you loved me. But I'm afraid you love money more." Trillian's tears flowed from her eyes as she took off the wedding band around her ring finger. She took House's hand, placed the ring in it, and closed his hand. "Good-bye," she said, walking out of the home.

"Enough, spirit!" the present House moaned wretchedly, burying his face in his hands. "I can't take this anymore! Why do you enjoy torturing me so?"

"It was your greed that drove her away, House," JD reproached. "I am merely showing you the past you hold. You cannot blame me for all the things you have done."

"Leave me alone! Leave me alone!" House roared, attempting to punch the ghost. But he fell out of his bed on and the cold, hard floor of his room, crumpled in his bed sheets. He had returned back to his home in the present, but felt no better.

"_House w-w-was left a-a-alone and remorseful,_ _dwelling on his memories of past…_" Porky said in a hush tone as the red curtains drew to a close once more.


	7. A New Present

_**Chapter 7 – A New Present**_

Cox found JD sitting despondently on a crate backstage still dressed in his Ghost of Christmas Past costume, holding his tree in his hands. "I guess you were right, Dr. Cox," he mumbled dejectedly. "I really shouldn't have picked this little tree. Everything I do turns into a disaster. I guess I really don't know what Christmas is all about." He jumped to his feet, raising his fists into the air, and screaming, "Isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?"

"Buckle up, Charlene," Cox said. "I'll tell you what Christmas is all about." He walked to the middle of the room and shouted, "Lights, please!" The room darkened as a single spotlight shined down upon him. "Here's the deal, Newbie: you can stuff your stockings with shiny, little toys from now until you grow some testicles, but until then that stocking is filled with friendship, loyalty, love, and devotion while it's just plum empty. And, no, you cannot purchase those things at Laura Ashley; and, no, you cannot win them in the Red Book Giveaway Extravaganza; and, gee, sorry if these things aren't what you can wind up and spin for eight hours. Let me make this _exceptionally_ clear: Christmas is about love. You can't live without anybody else's love. Not during Christmas, not ever. So go spend that time with your friends and family. And if they laugh at ya, laugh with 'em. And if they laugh at ya again…HIT 'EM! And go find some new friends. But, for the love of God, Jesus, Mary, Joseph and his Technicolor Dreamcoat, don't ever, _ever_ forget this, Newbie: You gotta _give_ love to _get_ love. So start givin' – now." The lights switched on again as Cox walked back to an inspired JD. "And that's what's Christmas is all about there, Newbie."

He threw up his right fist and walked away a la _The Breakfast Club_. JD just stood rooted on the spot, musing. He looked down at his little tree on the crate, and smiled as he picked it up. "Maybe Dr. Cox is right," he whispered to the tree. "Maybe in the end it's not about how big your tree is, it's about who you choose to sit around the tree with…and maybe I don't care I just ended my sentence with a preposition." JD's smile grew larger as he quickly left to make his preparations.

_**---**_

"Arthur! Arthur!" Bloo called as he ran to him.

Arthur sighed, "What is it now?"

"It's terrible! Stitch came down with the Crime City Bug!" Bloo exclaimed, waving his hands around wildly.

"'The Crime City Bug'?" he repeated. "What the bloody hell is that?"

"It's a twenty-four sickness that some of the Crime City citizens catch every year," Bloo explained. "And Stitch caught it! He can't go on!"

"Oh, come now," Arthur argued. "It can't be _that_ bad…." The sudden sound of Stitch's vomit splashing down on the floor of his dressing room quickly changed his mind. "Right. Bloo, you take his place!"

"Me?" he gasped in disbelief, slapping both of his hands over his mouth and then slowly lowering them. "I couldn't possibly…. Okay!" Bloo grinned widely. "But I don't know the lines?"

"Don't worry about that!" Arthur said quickly, dressing Bloo in Stitch's costume. "You know the story; just go out there and wing your lines."

"Sir, yes sir!" Bloo nodded, saluting Arthur.

He continued standing there saluting. "GET ON STAGE!" Arthur bellowed, sternly pointing Bloo to the stage. Bloo yelped and ran in the opposite direction, but quickly turned back around and to the stage. "Ugh…" Arthur moaned, gently rubbing his temples. "It's too coincidental. Stitch was just fine a few moments ago. He couldn't have gotten that sick so quickly." He spotted a little, empty glass tube on the floor. "'Ello, 'ello? What's this?" Picking up the tube, he read a sticker labeled on it:

_Crime City Bug Germs_

_Perfect for hatching diabolical sabotage schemes to ruin plays!_

"Phantom…" Arthur growled, crushing the tube – and slicing up his hand with glass shards. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! OW!"

_**---**_

The red, fluid-like curtains glided opened to reveal House lying in his bed but still wide awake. "_House c-c-couldn't sleep after that a-a-awful trip to his past,_" Porky said. "_His t-t-tears have long s-s-since dried from t-t-that time, but it was s-s-still painful to face it once m-m-more._"

"_It was so painful that he almost didn't hear the strange noises coming from his dining room…_" Daffy added quietly.

House readied himself for what could quite possibly be burglars in the other room and slowly opened the door to the room. He was shocked to find an odd, little blue creature devouring mass quantities of food enough for a town feast spread throughout the table. He was genuinely shocked as he was expecting _another_ odd, little blue creature. "Hey, where's Stitch?" House hissed to Bloo.

Bloo belched loudly as he held up a half-eaten turkey drumstick. "He came down with a case of the Crime City Bug," he whispered back. "I'm filling in for him."

"Eh, whatever," House shrugged, and cleared his throat for his line. "What in the world is this?"

"You like it?" Bloo grinned, gesturing to the Christmas decorations around the room that House just then took notice of. "I thought I'd brighten up the place, it looked SO dark and boring before."

"Who the hell are you?" House deadpanned irritably.

"I'm the Ghost of Christmas Present, or Bloo!" Bloo answered cheerfully before stuffing a large glazed donut into his mouth. "Not that kind of present where you pass gifts around," he added, splattering sticky dough over House's clean and expensive robe. "The kind of present when now is happening. Oh! Blackberry pie!" Without sparing another second, Bloo's face dug itself into said pie.

"Ugh…" House grumbled at the mess. "Where'd you get all this food anyway?"

"From the hearts of all the giving people of the world, House," Bloo explained, wiping away pie from his cheeks with a napkin. "It's the food of generosity, something you've long denied to your fellow man…"

"Generosity!" House sneered contemptuously. "Bah! Humbug! They've never shown me any of that crap."

"Have you given them any reason to?" Bloo asked, hopping down from his seat by the table. "Christmas is all about that kind of stuff! Come on, I'll show ya!" Taking House's hand, Bloo dragged the old man to a window.

"Oh, no!" House objected. "You ain't getting me jump out a three story building window again!"

"Quit being such a winy baby," Bloo snapped, unclasping and pushing open the window. "Hang on tight, now. I haven't _completely_ mastered flying yet."

"Are you kidding me?" he asked hopefully.

"Here we go!" Bloo leaped to the sky, dragging a dangling House with him. "Ha, ha! See? No worries!"

"I'm missing that dork JD already!" House bemoaned loudly.

"Oh, just shut up and pay attention," Bloo said. "I'm gonna show you how great Christmas is!"

"Not that I'm complaining or anything," House grumbled scathingly, "but how great can a holiday be when it's so…selfish?"

"WHAT!" Bloo thundered, dropping House. House yelled as his physical body dropped like a rock out of the sky. Luckily he was only hovering four feet above the ground. Bloo landed on top his chest and glared furiously. "You did NOT just say Christmas was selfish!"

"But it is, isn't it?" House said. "I mean, everyone just wants others to do something for them or spend money on gifts. Isn't that being selfish?"

"No, you got it all wrong!" Bloo snapped, thumping him on the head. "It's not about the receiving! It's about the giving! And the time one spends with his or her family!" He looked up. "Speaking of which, why don't you take a look into that house's window?"

Rolling his eyes, House peered into the window Bloo pointed to. "It's…Rika's home," he gasped as he saw Rika and her friend Kuro were having dinner with their many friends. "And they're having Christmas dinner! Oh, it looks wonderful!" Seeing that Bloo was eyeing him strangely, House coughed, "Er, yeah, wonderfully boring and inane!"

"Wow, she's cute," Bloo whistled. "Think I can go out on a date with her?" House conked him on the head.

"Thank you all for joining in with our festivities tonight, everyone," Rika said appreciatively to her friends with a kind smile.

"What about your ol' uncle of yours, Rika?" the little Toad asked.

"Well, I sent him the invitation, but I guess he didn't feel up to coming," she replied softly, her smile fading a little.

"Yeah, the old fart's probably still in his office checking his profits!" the wiseacre blonde Jay laughed, making the others join in.

"Or-a maybe he's-a counting up some-a pennies he earned in his-a tip jar," the lanky Luigi quipped.

"_What_ tips?" Kuro asked, causing everyone to burst out laughing hysterically. House was shocked; this was how everyone thought of him – a greedy and miserly old man. He held his head low wretchedly.

"Come on, everyone," Rika said. "Sure, my uncle's a penny-pinching jerk…" Everyone cheered, clanking their cups together. "Ahem," she cleared her throat exasperatingly. "As I was saying, sure, he's like that; but I still think he'll come around. He's the uncle that raised me, almost a father to me, and I turned out all right. I'm sure Uncle House will prove himself as a decent man." Her friends begrudgingly nodded their heads.

House was touched. His niece still cared about and defended him, risking face in front of all her friends. Tears rolled down his face. "Jeez," he chuckled, "why'd I have a niece like _that_?"

"Don't mean to rush ya, buddy, but we've still got one more stop to make before my time's up," Bloo said, staring at a watch on his wrist. He tapped it and groaned. "Note to self: don't take broken watches from Arthur that were fixed by the Janitor."

_**End of Chapter 7**_

NL: Hey, just wanna give a heads-up: I might not be able to finish this story before or during Christmas…mostly because I'm already bored with this story and wanna work on my other stuff. XD But I WILL finish this! Hopefully.


	8. Present’s End and Presence Revealed

NL: Yeah, I'm not too happy with this chapter. Mostly because I rushed it so I can get this story over with already. Now, don't get me wrong! I love _A Christmas Carol_! I just feel like writing other stories this Christmas break from school. Oh, well. Enjoy this thoroughly rushed chapter! By the way, remind me to NEVER write a holiday story ever again unless it's a one-shot.

_**Chapter 8 – Present's End and Presence Revealed**_

"Where are we going now?" House asked as Bloo snatched his hand once more and lifted him up into the air. House wasn't so surprised, growing used to flying through the cold sky. However, he was slightly curious as Bloo began lowering him once more into a dingy and poor neighborhood with little houses that could just as easily been mistaken for shacks. "Why have you brought me here, ghost?" he asked. "None of these building are remotely familiar to me."

"That's because you never bothered in taking the time to get to know your employee, Kronk," Bloo explained, visibly tired. "Go on. Look inside.

Like the many times before, House looked through one house's window. The conditions inside weren't much better than the outside; it was small and cramped, the furniture was rickety, most of the metal pans were rusted, and everything looked it has been around for years. "Oh, come on!" House said. "They can't possibly be _that_ poor!"

"Believe it, House," Bloo said wearily. "Go, look! Someone's entering the room!"

House saw Kara walk in along with Bart, the sweet Sakura Kinomoto, the witch-with-a-mouth Mystery, and two Warners named Yakko and Wakko. "So that's Kronk's wife?" he asked.

"Yeah," Bloo nodded. "And those are their kids – minus one."

"'Minus one'?" he repeated. Suddenly, the home's door was pushed open as Kronk ran in carrying a little Warner girl on his shoulders.

"Whoo!" she cheered, holding her hands up happily.

"Oh, so that's what you mean."

"Kind of…" Bloo mumbled quietly.

"Have fun going around the park, Little Dot?" Kara smiled lovingly as she set their old wooden table.

"You betcha!" the little girl declared as Kronk lightly lowered her to the ground. "It looks like we're gonna have a white Christmas!"

"Isn't that nice?" Kara said, placing down their dinner – a tiny bird with a few beans.

"That's all they have to eat?" House asked incredulously.

"It's all that Kronk's salary can pay for," Bloo answered. House rubbed the back of his neck, feeling accountable for Kronk's family's lack of food. If he had provided Kronk with a proper wage, perhaps his family wouldn't have had to live so inadequately.

"Oh, wow! Look at all what we have to eat!" Little Dot stated humbly, before coughing severely. House was startled when he saw her pick up a crutch by the wall and limped to the table. "We've gotta thank Mr. House for providing this for us." Kronk and Kara nodded, but frowned sadly at Little Dot's optimism.

"Yes, if it wasn't for Mr. House, we wouldn't have the few things that we have," Kronk agreed.

"Yeah, well, I still think I should give that man a piece of my mind…" Kara growled agitatedly.

"Wow, wouldn't it be awesome to see mom kick House's ass?" Mystery snickered deviously.

"Well, I'm sure she wouldn't have the nerve," Sakura said disapprovingly.

"We'll take that bet!" Yakko shouted, punching in a few numbers on an adding machine as Wakko was reading the ticker tape the machine spewed out.

"Now, Kara, Mr. House has given us so much," Kronk said. "We should appreciate everything he has done for us. Why, he has even given me a day off tomorrow!"

"Really, dad?" the kids gasped, latching themselves on to him.

"That's fantastic," Kara agreed, hugging them all.

House sighed, "They're all so happy, even when they have so little."

"And they appreciate every little bit of it," Bloo said.

"To Mr. House!" Kronk toasted, lifting up a cup. "The man who has made this all possible!" The rest of his family raised their drinks as well, with just as much vigor as he did. "Cheers!" House knew he didn't deserve this at all. This family – it was far too generous.

"God bless us," Little Dot said simply, "every one." But it only took that much to make her break out in a fit of coughs once more.

"What's wrong with her?" House tensely asked, looking to Bloo. He nearly jumped out of his skin. Bloo, before his eyes, was aging rapidly as wrinkles enveloped all over his face and looked so weak. House concluded he must not have noticed it before because Bloo was still young and the aging wasn't so noticeable.

"She's sick, House," Bloo answered simply, breath feeble. "If things do not change soon, I foresee an early death for young Dot."

"No…" House whispered softly.

"Why the long face, House?" Bloo asked. "'Decrease the surplus population.' Were those not your words?"

House shook his head, but responded, "I…I don't know." He looked to Bloo. "Ghost, why are you growing so old?"

Bloo chuckled lightly. "I'm going to die this night, House."

"What?" he said in disbelief.

"I think I'll be gone by…" Bloo looked at his broken watch again and shrugged, "…midnight." The town's clock tower bell just then struck once. "Heh, heh," he chortled. "Looks like my time is up."

The bell rang once more. "No, Bloo!" House pleaded. "Don't leave me! You've shown me so much!"

Bloo sighed as the bell rang again, "And there is one more I thing I must show." Raising his arms, he lifted the robe he wore to show a little boy and girl huddled underneath it. They looked to House pitifully with wide eyes as they shivered. "House, these children personify the major causes of suffering in the world," Bloo explained weakly. "'Ignorance' and 'Want' are their names. Beware them both, and all their degree, but most of all beware Ignorance; for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing is erased."

Bloo lowered his robes and hid the children away. "I don't understand," House said as the bell tolled six more times.

Bloo chuckled, slowly withering away into little green and red dust. "You'll figure it out."

"No!" House shouted. "Don't leave! Don't die! You've changed me, you gave me so much!"

Bloo slowly faded away. "Sorry, buddy. But now you must meet with the final spirit…the most terrifying of us three. Good-bye, House." House dropped to his knees and hugged the ghost tightly, unwilling to let gone, but soon felt nothing at all as Bloo vanished.

The bell struck twelve.

_**---**_

"Perfect, perfect…" Arthur smiled. "That was just perfect. Now, for the fog to set up the next scene…" House continued sitting on his knees, waiting for the next ghost; however, no fog filled the stage. "What!" Arthur screamed. "Where's that damn fog!" Something moving caught the corner of his eye. Arthur quickly turned around and saw a person in pitch-black robes running away, almost gliding, at greed speed. "_The Phantom!_"

He pursued after it. "Hey! Hey, you! Get back over here!" The Phantom knocked over a stack of paint cans, which rolled toward Arthur. Arthur hopped over the rolling cans, making a sort of pinging sound every time he jumped over one. After the last of the cans were gone a digital-looking "1-UP" appeared over his head.

Arthur calm to a screeching halt, having lost sight of the Phantom. Looking left and right, he spotted a ladder and looked up to see the hem of the Phantom's robe disappear. "You aren't getting away that easily!" Climbing the ladder, Arthur reached the top of the rafters. "There you are!" There stood the Phantom at the opposite end of the rafter facing him, his face hidden behind a Guy Fawkes mask and robe flowing gracefully in one direction; he looked so grand. Arthur slowly advanced over to the Phantom, taking small steps so as not to fall over. The Phantom, analyzing the area, simply stomped his foot, sending a jolt through the wooden floor Arthur was standing on.

"NO!" Arthur yelled, losing his footing and dropping from the several meter-high rafters. Arthur was so sure that he was going to die; there was nothing down below him to cushion his fall. He yelled again, hoping that someone could at least hear him and catch him before he became a mess on the ground. Arthur realized something, however; he wasn't falling; he was just simply hanging in the air. Looking up, Arthur looked up (rather, down) and saw that the Phantom had saved his life by catching Arthur's right leg with thin rope. The Phantom tied his end of the rope to the rafter boards, gave Arthur a quick gesture, and vanished.

"Oi, this job really isn't worth five-fifty an hour…" Arthur moaned glumly.


	9. A Christmas Story

_**Chapter 9 – A Christmas Story**_

A heavy fog slowly rolled in, enveloping House in vague surroundings. He crossed his arms and rubbed his cold shoulders, and then slapped his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from screaming at the sight the apparition before him. The figure in black shadows that formed a robe around it slowly made its way toward House in a sort of glide – intimating, dark, and ever so terrifying were the first thoughts House came up with to describe this spirit. "Are…are you the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?" he asked fearfully, approaching the figure cautiously. The spirit tilted its hood up and down, without uttering a sound. "Why don't you speak to me, ghost?" The spirit just remained silent. "Yeah…" House drearily sighed. "I wouldn't wish to speak with me either."

The spirit pointed down a street that just then came into focus from the fog. House nodded, understanding what it meant, and proceeded down the street. Walking past Bender and Jay, House heard Bender speak: "So the ol' man's dead?"

"That's what I heard, robot-man," Jay said as he shrugged one shoulder. "I hear he died only last night."

"How'd that guy die anyway?" Bender asked. "Natural causes? Disease? Brutal mutilation?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jay said, annoyed. "What am I, your freakin' mother? Snoogans."

"Yeah, who cares?" Bender agreed dismissively, laughing along with Jay. "What really piques my interest is what he did with all his money."

"Well, I can tell ya here and now that he didn't give it to no charity!" Jay chuckled. "All I know is that he didn't give it to me."

"Whatever the hell he did with it, he didn't spend it on his own funeral," Bender said. "I doubt anyone's gonna show up. No one will mourn that dead guy."

"I wouldn't mind going," Jay said musingly. "As long there's some lunch. Snoochie boochies!"

Jay and Bender laughed harder as House stared on with a disgusted look. "I cannot believe how these two can make light of a man's death," he said contemptuously. "But…who are they speaking of, ghost?" Instead of responding, the spirit elegantly gestured to a pawnshop across the street. "I should go in there?" House asked. The spirit nodded.

"This whole speaking to myself with rhetorical questions bit is getting old," he sighed as he limped into the shop, inside was the shop owner Zaphod Beeblebrox conversing with Danny Fenton, Juniper Lee, and Dr. Zoidberg.

"All right, my friends," Zaphod declared, "show me what ya got from that geezer's place!"

"Too bad the jerk didn't die years earlier," June said. "I couldn't stand another day working for him!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Zaphod said quickly, waving his hand urgently. "Just get on with passing on that dead guy's crap to me!"

Danny quietly whispered to him, "Hey, Zaphod, that's not in the script."

He answered back, "It ain't my fault; I just found my script like that."

The four looked around left and right as they heard a familiar voice backstage shout furiously, "PHANTOM!"

They shrugged. "Anyway, I swiped some of these collar buttons from his dresser!" Danny said, placing the good on the table before Zaphod. "They cost more than what I ever earned from that skinflint!"

"Allow Zoidberg to present his salvaging!" Zoidberg said, shoving Danny aside as he placed blankets on the table next. "I got his blankets from the same bed he died in!"

"Ha! I can top that!" June said, kicking Zoidberg away as she placed curtains on the table. "I've got his bed curtains!"

Zaphod picked up the curtains and felt the fabric through his fingers. "Eh, they're pretty cheap, but still worth a bit."

"I'm not done yet," June said as she added a shirt to her pile. "I got the shirt he was supposed to be buried in; I swiped it from his own dead body!"

Zaphod shivered and smiled, "Ooh, that _is_ cold."

House tore his eyes from them as they began laughing and walked out of the shop to the spirit. "All right, all right!" he moaned. "I get it; this man's fate might be my own. Is there not any compassion left in this world?"

A thick fog once again surrounded the two, and as it cleared the spirit pointed up – up to a cemetery. House gasped, "Why are we here, ghost?" The spirit pointed its shadowy sleeve up to one of the highest points in the cemetery, and House's heart was filled with dread at the sight: Kronk was with his family, huddled together. Sakura, Mystery, Yakko and Wakko were weeping as Kara sought comfort in her husband's arms. Wiping the last of her tears away, Kara gently ushered her children away, leaving Kronk behind. He held a crutch in his hands, hugged it for what seemed like eternity, and then tenderly placed it down against a tombstone to Little Dot's grave.

"No, no, no…" House whispered, shaking his head and dropping to his knees. "No! This can't be happening!" he cried, slamming his fist on the ground. "That girl didn't deserve to die! Her family didn't deserve this!" He turned to the spirit with crying eyes. "Tell me whether or not these events will not come to pass?" He placed his forehead onto the ground, his eyes closed from tears. "Please! Speak to me, ghost!"

The spirit merely pointed for the last time to another grave nearby. House rose back onto his feet and approached the grave with reluctance. The grave's headstone was tiny and unkempt, dirty, and had weeds growing all over it. House knew immediately whose grave this was. "This is the grave of the passing of that man," he said, turning to the spirit. "Are these shadows of things that will be or are they the shadows of thing that _may_ be only?" The spirit remained silent. House shuddered, knowing what he must do and whose grave this really was. He brushed away the weeds and read the name encrusted into the headstone as his clutched his rapidly beating heart:

_Ebenezer House_

"No, no!" House cried, falling to his knees once again. "I am this unwanted dead man?" The spirit pointed it finger pointed from the grave to him, and back again. "No, oh, no, no!"

The finger still was there.

"Spirit!" he pleaded, tight clutching at its robe. "Hear me! I am not the man I was! Why show me this, if I am past all hope?" For the first time the spirit's hand appeared to shake.

"Good spirit!" he beseeched as down upon the ground he fell before it. "Your nature intercedes for me, and pities me! Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life!"

The kind hand trembled. "I will honor Christmas in my heart, and keep it all the year! I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future! The spirits of all three shall strive within me! I will not shut out the lessons that they teach! Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!"

Holding up his hands in a last prayer to have his fate reversed, he saw the spirit's shadowy robe shrink away and replaced with a bedpost. Bedpost? It was his bedpost! House was ecstatic, bouncing up and down upon his bed. "The spirits have given me another chance!" he exclaimed wildly, laughing until his voice was hoarse. "Oh, Jacob Cox!" Spotting the framed picture of his old partner on the wall, he shouted, "I say it on my knees, old Coxie-baby, on my knees! Thank you!"

He sobbed tears of joy as he hopped out of his bed. He threw open his window to the brisk, snowy morning and spotted a young Ben Tennyson walking by his mansion. "You! My fine fellow!" he called. "What day is today?"

"Today?" Ben repeated curiously. "Why, it's Christmas Day, Mr. House."

"It's Christmas Day!" House bellowed joyously, hugging himself. "I haven't missed it! The spirits have done it all in one night! Of course they can! They can do anything they like!"

"Wow, that guy's off his nut," Ben said, twirling a finger around the side of his head.

He called to Ben again, "My young fellow, do you know whether they've sold the prize turkey at the meat shop that was hanging up there?"

"What, the one as big as me?" he asked. "It's hanging there now."

"Go and buy it for me, please!"

"Are you kidding me?" Ben frowned.

"I'm serious!" House laughed, but found a snowball tossed into his face. He wiped it away and chuckled, "I guess I deserved that. Please do so! And have the man deliver it to the Kronk household, but don't have them find out about who sent it!" Taking a sack of coins in his room, House tossed it down to Ben. "Use that to buy it. And…" Ben's eyes widened as House threw down another bag, "that's for your help!"

Ben grinned widely. "Oh, right away, Mr. House!" He was off like a bullet, speeding down the street at top speed.

"Heh, heh," House smiled. "Such a good kid…." He picked up his golden pocket watch and gasped. "Ah! I've got to get going if I'm taking care of what I need in time!" He raised his right foot, spun it like a certain hedgehog in a cartoon-like circle, and dashed out of his home.

_**---**_

Kronk and Kara were washing some dishes in their sink when there was a knock on their front door. "Who could that be on Christmas morning?" Kara pondered.

"Oh, I have a feeling I know," Kronk said distantly. "_A door-to-door salesmen_. Kara, my bat!"

Rolling her eyes, she opened the door. "Yes?" Kara's eyes widened in shock as she stammered, "K-Kronk?"

"Don't worry, honey, I've got it!" Kronk gave a bellowing battle cry as he charged for the front door with a wooden bat raised over his head, but Kara quickly elbowed him in the abdomen and snatched away the bat.

"Look…" she whispered, pointing outside.

Kronk gasped. "Special turkey delivery?" Arthur said, holding a massive turkey in his arms.

"But, but…" Kronk spluttered.

"We smell turkey!" Wakko stated as he and the rest of his siblings stood by a door to another room. Little Dot was sitting on Mystery's shoulders.

"Holy crap on black toast!" Mystery gasped, jaw dropping to the ground – literally. Kronk and Kara took each other's hand and smiled as the children picked up the turkey, carried it to the kitchen, and attempting to restrain their brother Wakko from devouring the entire turkey himself.

"'Tis a Christmas miracle…" Little Dot whispered.

_**---**_

Rika hadn't even woken up yet when someone was rapidly knocking on her front door. Yawning, she slowly slumped to the front door with Kuro. "Hello?" Rika asked groggily, but her eyes shot wide open and fully awake. "Uncle House?"

"Merry Christmas, my dear niece!" House laughed uproariously. "I do hope you wouldn't mind if I joined you today for Christmas?"

"Um, um, no, Uncle," Rika said, slightly confused, but smiled gladly.

House gave Rika an embracing hug. "You remind me so much of your mother…" he whispered softly.

She became even more baffled.

_**---**_

Wilson and Ford walked down a street avenue on the day after Christmas, still collecting hopeful donations for the poor as they came across House, whom was storming down their way. "Oh, bugger, what does he want now?" Wilson frowned.

"Merry Christmas to one and all!"

Wilson and Ford exchanged perplexed looks with each other as House stood before them with a giant smile on his face. "Good morning, gentlemen! I have something for you!" He took Ford's hand and dropped a five pound bag of coins into it.

Ford's eyes bugged out at the amount of money. "Oh, no, Mr. House! We couldn't…"

"Not enough? All righty, then!" House handed Wilson another five pound bag.

"Really, Mr. House, this really isn't –" Ford attempted to protest.

"Enough?" House finished the sentence for him. "Oh, wise guy, eh?" he asked in a high voice. "Fine!" He tossed to their feet three more bags. "And not a penny more!" House hooted merrily as he walked off, actually leaping into the air once and clicking his heels.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. House!" Wilson called, having trouble believing what he saw.

"And another thing!" Wilson yelped as he leaned forward and caught House's golden pocket watch. He looked to House confusingly, who winked. "Merry Christmas!"

Wilson smiled. "Merry Christmas!"

_**---**_

House paced back and forth in front of his shop, looking grumpy as he searched his pockets for his golden watch when he remembered he gave it Wilson. Shrugging, he continued pacing and then pulled on the most irritable look he can muster when he spotted his employee Kronk rushing to him. "Kronk, you're late!" he growled.

"I'm sorry, Mr. House," Kronk apologized. "It's just that yesterday was Christmas and there was a big surprise for my family when…"

"I don't want excuses, buddy!" House snapped, pointing his cane right into Kronk's nose. "You're late. And I needed you…"

"Please, Mr. House," he pleaded.

"No 'pleases', Kronk!" House hissed, stomping to Kronk, prompting him to back away. "You know what I should do to you?"

"Oh, no!"

"Yes!" House snarled. "I'm making you my partner!"

"Oh, dear sweet God, Jesus, Mary, Buddha, Jewish God, and Tom Cruise!" Kronk cried, dropping to his knees and wept into his arm. "I'm so sorry…. Wait. What?"

House's face eased considerably. "I'm making you my partner," he smiled, taking Kronk's hand and helping him to his feet. "Behold!" He pointed up at the sign to their shop that once read: COX AND HOUSE – PROFFESIONAL MONEY LENDERS, only now it read: KRONK AND HOUSE.

"Sir," Kronk whispered. "Were you the one…?"

"Ah, ah, ah!" House shushed, throwing his arm around Kronk's shoulders. "Let's not spoil that. In exchange, I'd like to meet your family, if that's all right with you?"

Kronk nodded excitedly. "Of-of course, Mr. House!"

"House was better than his word," Daffy said as he walked onto the stage with his partner, Porky, and the rest of the play's cast. "He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Little Dot, who did not die, he was a second father."

"He b-b-became as g-good a friend," Porky added, "as g-g-good a m-m-master, and as g-g-good a man, as the g-g-good old city knew, or any o-o-other good o-old city, t-town, or borough, in the g-g-good old world."

"He never met with the spirits again," Daffy said as he held up Little Dot in his arms, "but lived upon the lessons they taught, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Little Dot observed…"

Dot smiled as she exclaimed, "God bless us, every one!"

Everyone took their bows as crimson curtains slowly drifted to a close for the last time; the audience erupted into explosive applause. "Just wonderful, everyone!" Arthur declared, throwing away his clipboard and headset once the play was over. "This was just fantastic!"

"You better believe in that, pajama man!" Bender said, hooting as he flicked open a beer bottle and chugged it.

"And you made a friggin' badass Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, Silent Bob," Jay said to his quiet partner as he lowered his hood.

"Christmas is to bring joy to others, not to enrich one self," Silent Bob said wisely.

Trillian sighed, "Too bad we can't have that after-play party…."

"Who says we can't?" Everyone turned their heads and saw JD kicking open the backstage exit and running in with multiple Christmas decorations and food. "Merry Christmas, everyone!" he cheered, tossing all the decorations everywhere, which somehow magically clung to the walls and furniture in the backstage. He unrolled a long tablecloth along a twenty-foot long table, and closed one of his eyes as he flung various food dishes onto the table like flying disks. JD grinned triumphantly as he single-handedly prepared the after-play Christmas party.

"Wow, JD…" Trillian whistled. "It looks…"

"Good," Cox concluded. JD nearly fainted from that comment.

"Looks like you didn't screw up!" the Janitor stated, slapping JD on the back and knocking him to the ground.

"Way to go, JD," Rika smiled, helping him back to his feet.

"And I'm not done yet!" JD added, putting his hands behind his back. "Tada!" He whipped his hands forward again, and they carried the same little tree he bought, but it was so much different – it looked like a true Christmas tree with ornaments and fully grown pines and a little gold star atop.

"It's…perfect," Trillian declared.

JD's grin grew larger. "I just said to myself 'I'll take this little tree home and decorate it myself. And I'll show all my friends how wonderful this little tree was!'" He looked up into the air. "And, God? You're invited too!"

"I am?" a deep voice asked, causing everyone to flinch out of horror.

"Whoa…" JD gasped, slapping his forehead in disbelief. "God! He actually showed up! The Lord! The Almighty! The Big Guy…or Girl Upstairs! The Head Honcho! The Storm Maker! The Big Cheese! I like cheese…but not that stuff in the can. Although, give me a cheese ball rolled in nuts and I'm in heaven! But, come to think about it, I always pick the nuts off of it. I think I'm allergic…."

"It's the Phantom!" Arthur roared angrily, pointing up at the Phantom standing regally up on the rafters.

The Phantom elegantly walked down the wooden boards, but then it came falling down from the rafters after accidentally tripping over its cloak and came tumbling down with a loud crash on the hard floor below. "Well, that was anticlimactic," House declared.

Cackling wildly, Arthur grabbed a hold of the Phantom's Guy Fawkes mask. "Now let's find out who you really ARE!" On his last word, he ripped off the mask.

"No Limit?" everyone said – not really from shock, but from annoyance.

"Heh, heh, hi?" No Limit smiled as he scratched the back of his head.

"But…why did you try to ruin our play, NL?" Trillian asked.

"Simple, Arthur didn't invite me to the after-play party," he shrugged obviously as several of the others slapped their foreheads. "And I would've gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for that meddling JD! By the way, thanks for inviting me," he said appreciatively.

"Um, no problem?" JD replied uneasily.

Arthur closed his eyes as he rubbed his aching temples. "God hates me."

"No, he just doesn't care about you," Marvin corrected monotonously.

"Yo! I've got something to give out too!" House shouted as he dragged a large, red bag of presents. "Merry Christmas, folks!"

Most of the cast didn't really care as they dug through the bag for their gifts while a few others like Wilson and the Janitor was eyeing House suspiciously. "Okay, out with it, House, what's that catch?" Wilson demanded.

"What catch is that?" House said innocently, batting large eyelashes he suddenly developed and freaking out his friend. "I just wish to provide my fellow man gifts. After all, it's about the _giving_ and not the _receiving_. That's what Christmas is all about!"

"Uh-huh," Wilson nodded. "You did it so everyone else will give you presents, huh?"

"That and to win that bet to you that I can be a human being during Christmas," House smirked, winking.

"There was no bet!" Wilson said exasperatingly.

"Proving you wrong means I won," House smiled happily.

"No, it doesn't!"

"A stubborn mule you are, huh?" House chided as Wilson yelled and pulled on his own hair.

"Ugh…" Wilson moaned, slapping a hand over his face and dragged it down. "So where'd you get the cash to spring for the presents?"

"Eh, Santa wasn't using it," he shrugged indifferently.

"YOU STOLE SANTA'S BAG OF GIFTS?!"

"Whoa! Look at the time! Time for the end of the story!" House declared as his hand reached for the top of the screen and pulled down a new, red screen like a window blind.

Porky poked his head out of the center of the screen, waved farewell to you, the reader(s), and bade you all, "M-m-merry Christmas, folks!"

_**THE END**_

NL: Well, it's well pass Christmas, but what do you expect? I was busy on Christmas Day and my birthday was the day after Christmas! Oh, well. I hope you all enjoyed my last multi-chapter holiday story! That is, until I finish my _Law & Dismay_ story…. Thanks for reading!


End file.
